


Not So Lovely Thoughts

by sporklift



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Codependency, Coercion, Dark Neverland, Death Threats, Dubious Consent, Fade to Black, Hard to get, M/M, Magic, Neverland Husbands, Non-Consensual, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Panlix - Freeform, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Possessive Shadow, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Magic, Shadow is an semi-independent being, Threesome - M/M/M, dubcon, shadow sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporklift/pseuds/sporklift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Only children are allowed to stay in Neverland.” The shadow’s grip tightened against his lips, nails dragging against the soft skin, threatening to break through, promising to ruin them. "If you keep having these…<i>not so lovely </i> thoughts about Pan…” </p><p>He faded, fascinated by the thin skin on Felix’s lips, especially when the boy ticked away from his touch.  White eyes flashed with a lopsided grin, a horrible threat. </p><p>“I might be under the impression that you’re all grown up.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Lovely Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [z0mbieshake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/z0mbieshake/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Panlix Visual Novel](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/43459) by z0mieShake/truthmakesallthingsplain. 



> _ALL THE CREDIT to z0mbieshake/truthmakesallthingsplain, who drew the comic, imagined the AU of the shadow and character dynamics, created the plot, and was gracious enough to allow me to hi-jack this project._
> 
> Seriously, everything that doesn't come from the minds of the OUAT writers, came from the mind of z0mbieshake - the art at the top of the piece, the plot, literally everything. I was a mere vessel who wrote the words.

Based off the last panel in[ z0mbieShake](http://archiveofourown.org/users/z0mbieshake)/[ truthmakesallthingsplain](http://truthmakesallthingsplain.tumblr.com/)'s wonderful [Once Upon a Time in Neverland Visual Novel.](http://truthmakesallthingsplain.tumblr.com/post/78927311863/once-upon-a-time-in-neverland-the-visual) 

 

[Image source](http://truthmakesallthingsplain.tumblr.com/post/78927311863/once-upon-a-time-in-neverland-the-visual)

* * *

 

Felix watched with a small grin on his face as his friends dragged the boy back to camp kicking and shoving with a burlap sack over his head. It was a small shame that this Baelfire wasn’t the boy Pan was looking for, but Felix knew there was no reason to worry. Pan never failed. The Truest Believer would come into their laps sooner or later, Pan would take his heart, and that would be the end of it.

If Marmaduke’s whispers were any indication, the others didn’t share his optimism.

“What d’you think he’s gonna do? He’ll be pissed.”

“I just hope he don’t take it out on us,” Nibs put in, pulling the boat onto the sand. “It ain’t our fault if Baelfire’s got the wrong face.”

Felix simply shook his head, knowing Pan would take it in stride. Pan wasn’t the type to let little things get under his skin; he was a king, and kings had too much grace to allow something so small to inspire a rage.

Besides, every single one of his Lost Ones were candidates who simply didn’t believe enough to qualify. They got to keep their lives after that, but they belonged to Pan just the same.

Which, in the end, seemed like the better deal; even Felix could see that.

“Oy, Felix.”

He turned back to the situation at present, startled when he didn’t have to look down to make eye-contact with the speaker. “Yes?”

“We should head back to camp.” Rufio suggested, lowering the bandana to his neck so his mouth came into view, “I’ll believe up supper for you, if you’re hungry.”

“Quiet,” Felix hissed, eyes darting around to be certain none of the other boys overheard.

Rufio shrugged. “I think everybody knows that you can’t--”

“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you.”

Rufio held both hands up, palm out, to pacify his friend. “Suit yourself.”

“Take them back to camp,” Felix turned snappishly on his heels and abandoned the boys along the beach. They knew the island well enough by that point that they wouldn’t need a chaperone. Provided they stayed together and kept a torch lit to watch for dreamshade, they should have been fine.

He pretended not to be embarrassed until he cleared the forest. Once he was alone, moonlight as his only torch, he figured his cheeks burnt red. It trampled one’s pride to live on an island of dreams without capability of dreaming, or a land where one could have anything, only to discover belief was impossible to come by.

Felix always had a difficult time using his imagination like the rest of his friends. He had a difficult time believing in food that wasn’t actually there, or that he had enough energy to dance and play. He couldn’t believe his skin or hair clean, and he couldn’t believe illness away.

But that in no way meant that he lacked imagination.

On the contrary, his was quite overactive. Overactive to the point many of his friends thought he was stupid or ill. It wasn’t as though he could let on to the scenes that flashed behind his eyes without warning any time he had a moment to himself.

Neverland was for children. There was nothing childish about the visions of a firm stomach glistening with sweat and sliding against his, of sharp teeth on his hip, of the backs of knees soft and hot on his shoulders.

He’d been seventeen for fifty years, one would think his libidio would have waned. Sometimes it seemed like it had. But then Pan would look at him and give him an instruction or entrust something as stupidly simple as going to get a message to the fairies. After that, Felix immediately filled with an unwelcome daydream of arms wrapping around his neck, hands under his shirt, of his audacity spiking enough to dare mar Pan with bites and red bruises…

His imagination had worked in this way for what felt like years and was probably decades. So it was no surprise how it took its course that night. He knew he had duties and tasks to accomplish, but it had been a long day of Pan’s games.

He rested against the knobby bark of a kapok tree, hood down as the heavy forest humidity spread over his face. Bones aching and creaking from the excursions of the day. He tried so hard not to imagine warm fingers, staticy from magic, rolling small circles into his shoulders, easing the pain with enamored pressure and melodic stroking.

_Pan smiled from behind him, warm air eliciting no complaints as his fingers loosened clothing, rubbing and pressing comfort deep through muscle._

_Felix leaned back, feeling Pan's diaphragm give against the base of his spine, laughter welling inside him from an unintelligible exchange as Pan smirked with a mischievous gleam, carrying on a joke and a game, humming a rhyme from a life long forgotten, playful and very off-meter. “All the boys come out to play, the moon does shine bright as day...”_

_Felix found himself grinning, leaning into the circling knuckles and rolling his head back to look at Pan. Although light was scanty from the breaks in the canopies, the familiar edges and sides of Pan’s face were clear as ever._

_Pan’s eyes danced, lips drawn up and gaping as he finished the tune. “Come with me and press your luck. All night long we’ll have to--”_

_Felix muted the song as his lips pressed into the melody. Pan’s thumbs dug between his shoulder blades, lips coming together to canvass Felix’s tongue. Warm. Absurd._

_Absurdity didn’t last long, Pan’s hand left Felix’s shoulder and skimmed down his stomach, plucking and pulling at his clothing, Felix’s bottom lip caught between canines. Pan gleefully tugged it away from the boy’s face, hand caught in a loop of toying at his sore thighs, only briefly skittering down between them, not nearly enough..._

Buzzing in his ear woke Felix from his mind with a lurch and a spastic swing of his arm. He flung about for a beat to shoo whatever insect had decided to fly by his head. Nearly all the pests in Neverland were parasitic, so it was best to keep them at bay. Even if all it took to rid yourself of them was to believe they’d never latched on. But then again, all the more reason for Felix to avoid it in the first place.

The forest was blue in the darkness, the moonlight bright and milky in the sky, overpowering the thousands of stars he could see between breaches in the canopies.

Creatures ambled about in the darkness. Wild boars snorted and monkeys chattered sleepily. Enormous tigers and thick black snakes with fangs the length of his forearm.

A hissing noise edged with sharp clicking and Felix’s eyes flicked up just in time to see a dark form supersede the moonlight between two branches, erasing the light and replacing it with cold darkness.

The boy frowned and, in that moment, the darkness was immediately before him. All black, misleadingly translucent with beams of white eyes, mimicking moonlight in a way that seemed false. Pan’s shadow.

Felix’s stomach dropped through the earth.

With a shake to the head, he attempted to reason with it. “I’m just-resting. For a minute.”

The shadow was right on his nose, the whiteness narrowing with a tilt to its head.

“I’ll finish later.” Felix returned, somewhat softer, half thankful he couldn’t read the shadow’s expressionless form and half wishing he could.

The shadow hung over his face, dark clouds and air. Had Felix been new to the island, he might have thought he could swipe his hand through the creature without losing it

His stomach burned as the world closed in on him. The air was stale and old, atmosphere murky and unclear. The shadow was on him, dark air pressing through his skin, and he tried as hard as he could to evaluate it. But there was no point. As always, the shadow was unreadable.

“Though -” A mad attempt to backtrack. “I should probably get going again-”

He tried to stand up, but found a shadowy hand fanned out over his chest, pulling down on the strings of his cloak. The being shoved, and Felix fell back against the bark of the tree, anchored to the ground only by his heels.

“What did I do?” His voice cracked as he tried to muter out the words, to kick his way back to the ground, with the shadow hanging right off his lips.

It merely ticked its head to the side. Pensive, or confused, or angry, Felix wasn’t sure. He bit on the back of his tongue, trying to alleviate the chalky dryness that assaulted his throat. When the appropriate amount of saliva pooled, he swallowed. The shadow, surprisingly enough, fell back.

Or, well, as close as the shadow would ever come to backing away.

Felix shook his head softly, “I don’t understand. Did I break a rule?”

The shadow nodded, but before Felix could inquire further, disappeared.

A chill ran down his spine with nervous trepidation, uncertain where he’d misstepped and frightened he might do it again. He began to walk, taking the perimeter and attempting to be a worthwhile sentry -- his attempt to rest seemed like the most obvious sin.

He couldn’t think of another way he might’ve taken a misstep past Pan. But Pan never seemed to care too much about those sort of issues. If anything, he’d only be in trouble for it if something happened when he was supposed to be on watch.

Felix had no doubts that Pan would never harm him, that _Pan_ cared for him. It was the shadow, and his random bursts of autonomy, that he worried about.

He didn’t know what to make of it. The shadow was an extension of Pan and therefore holy. It always did whatever Pan wanted, but there were those terrifying (albeit rare) times when the shadow would do something on his own accord, usually ripping a Lost Boy limb from limb. And whenever that happened, Pan’s eyes would flash, he’d grow livid and the entire island would be treated to a one-sided shouting match between Pan and a being none of them could hear.

They always ended the same way, Pan would grow angrier and angrier, and the shadow would eventually fly away at lightspeed. All the Lost Ones could only duck and cover, praying the shadow would let them live to see morning.

Felix shook his head and continued walking, trying to ignore how the wood seemed to turn black as pitch. Silhouettes darker stains on black, the moonlight above casting ambience over the treetops, sending beams of light to disperse along the forest floor, betraying still plants for creeping demons.

He convinced himself to keep walking, even as dark mist rolled in by his feet, searing and burning like acid. White hot and villainous. Neverland rarely misted over, the climate didn’t lend itself well to that. It was a warning, but of what, Felix was unsure.

Twigs snapped off Felix’s right shoulder. In spite of himself, he uncoiled, rolling his ankle. He spun about with just enough time to see an enormous creature with spiking black fur, dangerous red eyes, panting and salivating as its teeth ravaged a limp, grey equine. Silvery blood dripping from its gaping chops, its razorlike canines.

Felix clamped his palm over his mouth to keep from screaming when the creature looked up from the carcass it had been ruining. Low, rolling noise filed the forest, overpowered the insects and the stuttering in Felix’s chest. Fur lifted even more and its back arched. Extreme heights, towering over the boy.

Rustling in the underbrush behind him, Felix folded in as he stood, picturing shapeless masses circling round him and covering every inch.

But then he was alone. The terrifying beast evaporated away, the carcass in the wood disappeared. An image from a nightmare, nothing more. That happened from time to time.

Felix shook his head and fixed to continue, but not without the terrifying premonition of moving masses of black against the darkness, following him, creeping, sucking out energy and sanity.

Trees rustled, monkeys screeched and pounced from branch to branch, bats dove and skirted around his head. Felix dodged and tripped over his ankles, circling around himself to try to figure out where that damn _laughing_ was coming from. He didn’t know when it started, but it pounded in his ears. Over and over again, the same cruel trilling in his ears, overpowering his heartbeat but minimal against the prowling animals’ deafening footfalls.

Everywhere. He was surrounded, but he couldn’t see what sorts of walls were suffocating him. Mist filled in, and he couldn’t see the nearest tree. But there was the footprints and the laughter and - _what was that?_ \- some sort of groaning in his ears and he circled around himself over and over again, overpowering any and all senses.

And then, as he turned, he crashed into another breathing body.

He’d already let out a horrible yelp and fallen on his back by the time it came into focus. Pan stood at his feet, long and slim from the angle, moonlight dulling in favor of his natural sparking and magic that somehow seemed more organic than the forest itself.

All indications of horror fled from Felix the instant he knew he was safe; flushing away with the blood that rushed upwards to his face.

Pan laughed. “The big bad pirates scare you, did they?”

Felix stilled the heaving in his chest, opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. His eyes widened in surprise when he found Pan’s hand extended to him, ignoring the trembling in his own fingers when he took it.

Pan hoisted him to his feet with such speed and force that they bumped chests. They might’ve rocked right back onto the ground if it weren’t for Pan’s magic keeping them upright. Felix blinked for a few moments, dizzy from the sudden motion, before he realized how close they were standing. He promptly backed away before he could start to feel the heat from Pan’s body, or start to imagine what could have happened if magic hadn’t interfered.

_Felix was on his hands and knees, Pan lying flat on his back with electric hands sliding up under his arms to clasp and paw at the skinny shoulders._

_Pan laughed, delighted in the circumstance, resting his head on dead grass and vines, twitching a brow expectantly._

_Felix took one arm and palmed the back of Pan’s head, reclining downwards to suck on his lips, smiling when Pan’s fists clenched on his sleeve, eagerly flashing nails to dig through the thick material of his cloak._

_It covered them entirely, that cloak. Everything but their limbs. They could be completely naked under it and no one would know…_

“Felix!” Pan sounded irritated. “You weren’t listening.”

Felix shrunk away, cursing himself. It was no use trying to lie about it. “What were you saying?”

“I was _asking_ ,” Pan started to circle round him, finicky as ever, “Whatever happened with our newest little friend?”

“It wasn’t him.”

Pan hummed indifferently to the news, “Back at camp, then, is he?”

Felix nodded.

“Boys give him supper and a nice dance?”

“I didn’t stay,” Felix amended, concerned that perhaps Pan had wanted him to wait around the fire and appease ‘their newest little friend.’

“Fair enough.” Pan sighed. “‘S been a long day. You should get some rest.”

Felix paused. This was new. Perhaps, he thought, Pan was testing him. The shadow must have told him that he had decided to rest while he had jobs to do. Felix felt his throat go dry. He wouldn’t - _couldn’t_ \- disappoint Pan or prove himself unworthy of his place on the Lost Boys’ pyramid.

“I’m not tired.”

Pan’s brows darted up, his lips twitched. “Oh?”

Felix saw this as a good omen, relieved to see he’d read Pan correctly. Thus, he nodded, shuffling his feet underneath him to remind himself of that fact he had energy to spare.

“So you’re completely awake, then?”

Felix nodded, trying to read the miniscule ticks in Pan’s face to direct his next course of action. Anything to amend for his earlier indiscretion.

To his surprise, Pan ticked his head, lips half rolled into a grin. “But it is late. Can’t you think of _anything_ that might tire you?”

In all honesty, Felix had expected a direct order. Freedom to choose was a rather new development. And after he’d disobeyed? Felix felt as though he were walking on glass.

“I’ll check the beach.” Felix ultimately decided, figuring it sounded like the most pro-active choice. “Make sure the pirate doesn’t go back on his word and try to take the boy.”

Pan took a step back, surprised, as though that hadn’t been what he meant. “Well. All right, then.” He paused. “If you’re still awake when you’re through, I’ll be in the treehouse."

With that, Pan disappeared. Felix let out a defeated sigh, hoping to avoid chills, hoping the laughter wouldn’t start over, or the toxic mist. He set his mind on the way Pan’s eyes flashed when talking to him, the lopsided smirks, the way he held himself with regal languor. If nothing else, it kept the horror at bay.

* * *

 

Peter Pan rested on the furs piled up on his mattress, splayed out in lethargic nonchalance, his limbs thrown every which way as he tossed a dagger up into the air. It spun with deadly swiftness before the handle slid back into his fingers only so he could throw it up again.

He pressed his lips together, contemplating the very short list of things worse than boredom, just as a large black figure breached through the window, hovering in the air, white eyes even.

Pan smirked, catching the dagger a centimetre over his nose, before sitting up. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

The shadow flickered in his place above the moonlight, flying in closer to invade his air. “You called me.”

“So I did,” Pan sighed, more than used to the shadow hovering too close. “But that was quite a while ago. Here I thought you stopped listening to me.”

The shadow made no movement, if his face had been in view, Pan was certain it would be condescending.

“You know I hate talking to you like this,” Pan spoke again, rising to his feet and brushing imaginary dust off his thighs. The motion forced the shadow to back away, Pan couldn’t help but smile at his advantage. “Come along now, be a good boy.”

The shadow lowered sluggishly, feet touching the ground. As he did so, there was a small flash of dull grey light. It didn’t so much fill the room as it pulsed for a moment, no more remarkable than the sun leaving the sky. Once it subsided, Pan found his brows rise as the image came into focus centimeters from his face.

“Well.” He muttered, the words an amused chirr in his throat. “You’re looking more and more like me every day. If only you weren’t so pale.”

The shadow smiled broadly, allowing a barking laugh to escape from the glowing in the depths of his mouth. He didn’t really mean it, Pan knew, but that didn’t mean he didn’t _feel_ the amusement.

It was _funny_ , really. If you thought about it.

Funny in how the longer Pan remained on the island, the more the shadow took on his appearance. The first time the creature had revealed a form of flesh and blood, he’d been his own person. Tall and long in the face, stringy black hair. As the centuries pressed on, he got shorter, slimmer, until eventually he’d become a black-and-white reflection of Pan himself.

“You’ve never looked better,” Pan assessed, walking round the figure, wondering if, in a few centuries, the creature would gain color in this form. He hoped so, the possibilities and potential games were tantalizing.

“At least I still sound better than you,” The shadow muttered jovially, Pan’s accent tinted dark in his deep chest.

“Give it a while.”

The shadow laughed outright. “You’re in a good mood.”

Pan had to snigger at that. Between the two of them, the shadow was, by far, the happier. However, he did reply. “Naturally. Our little employee all but gift-wrapped the boy. That’s pirates for you.”

Sinking into one hip, the shadow tossed his head. “And you have to keep the boy alive until everything aligns.”

“Skeptical?”

“As usual.”

“Oh, have faith. Some optimism, perhaps. Fate has a way of working in my favor.”

“At least until the hourglass runs out.”

Pan rolled his eyes and tossed his hand despite the pang of annoyance in his stomach. “Think you’ll remember how to survive on your own?”

The shadow snarled, suddenly irked.

“See? You don’t,” Pan continued to press the matter. “You’re better off under me and you know it.”

“I didn’t have the choice.”

“Neither did I,” Pan fell back onto his furs. “Just accept that I was the one the island prefers to bend under, real flesh and blood, and you’re the one in shackles.”

The shadow bent over, arms on either side of Pan’s hips as he reclined on the bed. He strained as he used everything he had to keep a stoic expression in the face of Pan’s glee. “Did you call me here to gloat and throw your weight around or do you require something of me?”

Pan sighed. “I’m bored. It’s best not to frighten Baelfire just yet with games.”

“I’m not your harlequin.” White eyes narrowed, trying to skirt off the incredibly torpid heaviness settling in his stomach.

“You’re whatever I want you to be.” Pan’s nose crinkled. “Though that’s not the type of entertainment I prefer.”

The shadow’s shoulders straightened. “Your type of entertainment shouldn’t even happen in Neverland.”

“You can’t win that argument. Immature a bit and stop _thinking_ about it.”

“It’s difficult,” The shadow pressed in, trying to no avail to trap the boy under him, “When you’re always thinking about it.”

A sharp laugh burst from the magical boy. “I’d hardly call it always. Passes the time. Besides, don’t you?”

The shadow clenched his jaw, bone visible over the skin, fingers spindling in and out of tight white fists.

Pan smirked, and as he did so, the shadow grinned broadly.

“Besides,” Pan said. “Now we’ve got my grandson, it’ll be at least a century before we’re ready to release him. Might as well have some fun in the meantime.”

White eyes met green, they locked for a beat before Pan looked down, lips curled back, “But I won’t expect you to know much about that.”

The shadow might’ve glared, might’ve snarled, if only Pan wasn’t so amused by the situation. He wanted to be angry and throw punches, but as it was all he could do was laugh, warmth in his chest despite the stormclouds swirling in his mind.

 

* * *

 

He’d walked the perimeter three times, just to make up for the minute he’d rested, his feet dragging in exhaustion, skin scraped and cut from various thorns and vines that had stood in his way on his trek. But that didn’t matter. He’d amended himself, and there was nothing left to do but collapse and sleep until Pan deemed it morning.

Felix cracked his neck as he walked to his little secluded corner of camp.. He leaned against the nearest tree and pulled on the strings of his cloak. As he did so, he unintentionally skimmed his eyes across the camp, making contact with a boy hugging his knees to his chest by the fire, bedding still rolled up beside him, an insolent expression on his face.

The Boys started out like this sometimes, so Felix wasn’t surprised. Except for the truly hateful expression on Baelfire’s face, it was a typical string of events. He shrugged it away and fiddled with the buckles on his boots. The kid would come around in time, and for the moment Felix couldn’t worry about it. He was exhausted, and he’d work on showing Baelfire the ways of the Lost Ones come morning. Pan wouldn't mind if he slept now, would he? Not after he paid his penance.

With a small groan, wadding up his cloak so that it would double for a makeshift pillow, Felix hit the ground, clamping his eyes shut and willing himself not to think.

But, damn him, his overactive imagination just wouldn’t let go.

_It was a secretive and whispering voice, so familiar and so close. “What are you doing?”_

_“Sleeping.” Felix mumbled in half-awake monotone, feeling Pan’s body heat off his side._

_“Boring. Wouldn’t you rather do something?”_

_“I’m tired,” Felix conceded, almost praying Pan wasn’t about to send him on another errand._

_“Allow me to wake you, then.” Pan’s voice was light, smiling._

_Felix half curled in on himself to the feeling of knees on either side of his ribcage, of hands pressing up his chest. He opened his eyes halfway to the manic grin he’d seen directed elsewhere a thousand times before. Back then, it’d been little more than a pleasing aesthetic. Directed at him, it was paralytic._

_Pan’s lips were moving, speaking in strings of concise sentences, but none of them breached Felix’s ear. He could make out the shape of a word here or there - game, play, murder -but he couldn’t hear a thing._

_No matter._

_He wasn’t sure when he stood up, but he didn’t give it any thought, not while he scraped Pan up on the tree behind them, not while he could feel ankles crossing behind his back. Pan’s mouth was still moving, and Felix still couldn’t tell what he was saying. He broke the mutism with a series of springy pecks to the neck, lips bouncing off Pan’s skin and falling back by sheer force of gravity._

_Pan clawed at his shoulders, pushing him in closer and Felix’s forehead fell to rest on the chest in front of him, smooth and firm with muscle, compacting their forms together, suddenly with nothing in the way, with nothing to lose._

_Clothes and negative space disappeared. Felix felt hot thighs clench around his hips, saw Pan’s neck and chin pointing like an arrow up to the sky, he licked bruises and heard Pan’s voice panting to the stars and trying to find his face in the constellations. Felix heard his name and “Yes, love. Yes, more. Yes,_ you.”

And from his spot laid out flat on his bedroll, Felix’s imagination continued to toss and turn even while he laid still. He wasn’t sure when the vision faded in favor of deep sleep.

The camp had been still for two hours by the time the shadow made his entrance.

He didn’t have to bother making himself invisible. All the boys were asleep, tears drying on their puffy, snotty faces. But precaution never hurt. Besides, he didn’t want to run the risk of someone _seeing_ , least of all Felix. At least not while he figured this out.

To the shadow, this was new. Up until recently, he’d never had this gale blowing inside him. Nor had he ever known the desire to touch and rake and affect a person. It had never occurred to him that flesh and blood and liquid could be an advantage.

The boy was somewhat _adorable_ when he slept, the shadow noticed while he was pressed up to him, an invisible, intangible cloud watching his face. He was unmarred by ugly tear-stains but touched by the tantalizing result of battle, twitching periodically, head lolling to the side about once an hour.

It was easy to see that poor Felix’s mind was racing, melting and hot with explosions firing off inside his skull. The shadow could be invasive enough to affect the dreams, but no. Best not wake him by accident. Not with him so pretty on his back.

Pretty and getting prettier.

The cloud seeped in closer, riding the thin veil of air through the cotton of his shirt and his trousers, expanding and scouring over skin that prickled at the subconscious contact, starting to sweat.

The shadow smiled to himself. It appeared as though he could affect Felix without waking him. This was a surprisingly appealing development. Call it curiosity, call it deviancy.

Call it _symbiosis._

The word didn’t matter, but the shadow flashed and felt the thunderheads swirling in his trunk. He had to. It was too overwhelming. He could give in to the strange impulses without having to worry about screaming or struggling or anything else the boy might stupidly try.

He was a silhouette, invisible in the scanty light, though if one focused one might be able to recognize a form with arms and legs pressed into the blond, doubling as blanket and scourge.

A cloudy hand fell through fabric, light as triggerfish along his ribcage. And the boy balled up, knees twitching up to his stomach, a string pulling his ribs up to the sky, gravity driving his shoulders into the dirt. The aesthetics of an arched back and the shadow nearly crooned. Both hands scraping downwards, humid pressure applied. Felix twitched as the contact grew harsh.

The shadow repeated the action, unused to and enamored by such physiological effects, only to find the hips dart upward quickly when more pressure gathered.

Interesting.

He gripped tighter with both hands, mist covering the hills and valleys of the boy’s body, rolling in under fabric and around pores. Fascinated, interested, somewhat confused.

The boy sighed, vocalized, warbling. Unintentionally seductive.

The shadow’s face hung in the air, close to his, watching the lines between the boy’s brows as he moved his hands and inflicted his mist around the flesh, watching the lips open to lift a curtain over shiny wet saliva that pooled and looked slippery and real and tangible.

_Since when had tangible mattered?_

A shadowy face dropped lower, a cloud against an elegant neck, a heaving chest, sunken stomach, bucking hips.

He curled around the boy, adding pressure to sensitive nerves.

At the contact, Felix’s head dropped back onto the bedroll, chin pointing up to the sky, shoulders tensing and lifting him from the earth. His mind teasing him in a series of heavy, dark vignettes as his hips pulsed and twitched in accordance to the mismatched narratives swirling and dotting in and out as his brain fired one scene after another.

Lips made of air covered him, tongue licking and coiling up the inside of his thigh. Swallowed him down. Dark clouds, rainy mist, hot tempestuous wind.

Confined to his own mind and still fast in a dream, Felix saw flashes of earthy green eyes looking up into his every few beats, after every few pulses and flickers down at his cock. His mind placing Peter Pan between his thighs and his skin burnt hot.

He groaned sleepily, tossing his body. Unaware of the stimulus egging on the visions.

The shadow nestled in. Closer, closer, misty and slight to the touch. Inside and atop the skin, hovering and pulsing. Felix convulsing, eyes still shut, still lost somewhere in a dream.

Carelessly, the shadow allowed the storm to overpower cognition, and moved on impulse. Settling his essence to cover the boy head to toe, to touch and feel and suck and kiss every inch of him. More, more, more, more. For those moments, contact was the only thing that mattered.

How could something as mortal as human contact matter so much? The shadow blamed Pan.

The instant he thought it, he felt an odd tension where his stomach would be, and his eyes darted instantly up to the face laid out before him, panting and sweating and balled up. Pan couldn’t have this. Pan didn’t deserve this, the brat. Whatever “this” entailed exactly, though the shadow found he suddenly had a surplus of knowledge on the matter.

The boy was tense and knotted, shaking and oversensitive to touch. His face drawn in, warbling and whimpering.

Not nearly enough. The shadow wanted reaction or some form of retaliation. His would-be lungs, swirling magic energy though his body, were burning, hot on fire. His mind racing with how it’d feel to have the body moving in against him, how it’d feel to be absorbed into mobile human flesh, with whimpers directed at him. A melting and vibrating mess, perfectly pretty and in complete submission.

The thought was nothing short of titillating.

And Pan would never see it, not if the shadow had a say.

Felix flew upright with a small shout, lurching awake with blown eyes. As much as the shadow yearned to stay and help him ride out the waves, he made himself scarce. Appearing a few meters away under a veil of invisibility, he watched pensively as the boy struggled to regain control of his breath, blinking at the hardness between his legs and the layer of slimy come against the inside of his braies.

The shadow cocked his head, watching the confused look on the boy’s face. Almost stupid and completely non the wiser. That was probably for the best. Yet, if rejection were something shadow-beings could process and accept, it might have been infuriating. But no, it merely opened up a few possibilities. His sparse knowledge of human matters told him that what he’d just done was considered _unacceptable._ But since Felix didn’t seem to realize any of it, there were ways to work around getting more.

Although, he thought, glowing eyes never leaving the heave in Felix’s chest or lowering heaviness in his lap, it wasn’t as though that actually mattered. He ought to be able to do whatever he damn well pleased with any and all of Pan’s pets. The kid owed him that much.

Felix continued blinking and trying to lighten the desperate weight in his lungs, trying to scrap together what had happened. The mechanics was quite obvious but it was odd in the fact it hadn’t happened for the better part of a decade. And even when it had, he’d never woken up yelling because of it before. He’d never felt the remnants of lips pulsing on him after it was over, either, as though there had been something there.

A trill ran down his spine at the sudden thought that, in his sleep, he’d been working himself up. There, in camp, for anyone to see. His eyes darted around for any wakeful eyes or cruel sniggers of the Lost Boys. Thankfully, it seemed he was the only wakeful soul in the camp.

Waiting impatiently for his body to realize he’d already come, Felix stirred on the bedroll before lifting himself to his feet, figuring he might as well wash up, or at least rinse off. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep; it seemed as though he’d fucked himself awake.

 

* * *

 

An hour later, and Felix wasn’t sure how he wound up in that tiny boat for the second time that night. His legs, so it seemed, had moved on their own accord and, rather than returning to camp after he washed, he had somehow stepped onto the beach. His feet had slipped in the sand as he pushed the little boat onto the water. And before he knew what he was doing, he was rowing out to sea.

It was dangerous to be on the waters alone, and particularly so late at night, but it seemed as though the mermaids were otherwise occupied and they didn’t bother him. He never gave it a second thought; considering the nightmares from earlier, wandering through the forest seemed like the greater danger.

He docked at Skull Cave, pushing the boat onto the rock with straining muscles and gritted teeth. If he could only just believe that the boat was light as a feather, it wouldn’t have been an issue.

It took a while, but he managed to pull the boat away from the current and onto the jagged rocks. From there, he wasn’t certain.

The stairs were gravelly in that cave, Felix always had to take care not to trip when he used them. His footing in the entire place was always off, though. It was cold and crumbly, all dark grey and dull brown. It would’ve been pitch black, except for the glowing hourglass, radiating and powerful against the far wall.

He didn’t like the way the golden dust fell down into the bottom sieve. It still wasn’t full, or anywhere near, but it was a cruel reminder that Pan was limited by something.

No sooner had he sighed in exasperation of the object, than he heard a loose stone slip and click on the ground. He craned his neck to look Nobody in eyeshot. Another rustling noise, another shift of stone.

He would’ve heard if someone docked at the cave. It had to be someone who could magic their way across the sea.

“Pan?”

The name was ready on his tongue before he could process it, simple habit constructing the word, hoping that perhaps it was Pan approaching from the other end of the cave.

“Not exactly.”

The silhouette breached into the light, coming to a confident halt in the golden haze surrounding them. A familiar position, lazy and alluring, thin arms hanging down by his side idly as though they didn’t have the power to end lives without effort.

Felix blinked away the dots that crossed his vision, not believing his eyes. But the longer he stared, the more real it looked: a carbon copy of Pan by every virtue of size and shape. But, it wasn't Pan. Colors dark to mimic the night sky rather than the hills and the earth. Black hair. Moonlight pale skin, lightning bright eyes, sharp dagger teeth leaving slight impression over a glowing mouth. An expression that looked so much like Pan and yet so different.

Felix had to remind himself to breathe, trying to pull two and two together as the being approached him with purposeful steps.

“You don’t recognize me.” A familiar accent filled the cave with all the same haughty touches and lilts Pan often used. But the tone was too deep. Huskier. Darker. Headier. Almost erotic.

Felix couldn’t shake the feeling, though, of spindly insects crawling up his spine. They wriggled and creeped, leaving frostbite in their wake.

He shook his head, confused and trying to decide whether or not to be frightened. Racking his brain for any demon that had enough power to replicate - or _possess_ \- Peter Pan.

The figure lifted his knee, stepping onto the air as though it were another plane of the floor. Levitating, sweeping by, until he dropped to the ground, weight pressing into Felix’s toes, chest bumping against his.

That's when it clicked.

“You’re...you’re his shadow.”

As the revelation came to him, Felix blinked away his disorientation in the proximity. He knew he should be used to it, but his throat had gone dry. The pale creature grinned like a carnivore and Felix shrunk like its quarry as hands flitted over his vest.

“I am.”

“What’s going on? How are you…”

The shadow craned upward, hovering in midair over Felix’s face, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Felix opened his mouth to confirm that, yes actually, he would like to know what the hell was going on, but an unprecedented pulse of adrenaline sent him reeling. A slap to the face and white knuckles cupped his mouth. An arm wrapped behind his head. Trapped.

It was cold and hard and misty to the touch, as though not entirely there. Felix’s knees buckled as the shadow pulled him down to eye level.

Felix found himself staring into white eyes. No soul, just white light.

His fists flew, but both his wrists caught in the shadow’s sharp talons.

It laughed outright in its dark voice that almost sounded musical. Some kind of séance. “We have a problem, Felix.”

Felix’s breath labored and he blinked stupidly, head spinning in bewilderment. The question he asked the shadow far too many times ready in his mind. What did I do? The fear of receiving an answer, however, muted him just as much as the hand pressed against his lips.

The shadow smelled like bitter smoke, sweet poison, and bright light. Thin arms pulled in closer around the back of Felix’s neck.

“I know you,” The shadow began. “What you’ve been thinking. It’s a bit...problematic, shall we say.”

Felix protested, muffled against the shadow’s hand as he smirked and sifted in closer. The black and white being didn't stop until hipbones grazed, until foreheads knocked together. If he had lungs, he would have wanted to breathe the boy in, savor the scent of mica and earth and bitter sweat.

“Only children are allowed to stay in Neverland.”

The insects were back, burrowing and biting under Felix’s skin. The fact, on its own accord was nothing new, but because the shadow seemed compelled to remind, it reduced him to uncontrollable shivers.

The shadow’s grip tightened against his lips, nails dragging against the soft skin, threatening to break through, promising to ruin them.

The shadow hissed, voice still billowing in the air, venomous and threatening,“If you keep having these… _not so lovely_ thoughts about Pan…”

He faded, fascinated by the thin skin on Felix’s lips, especially when the boy ticked away from his touch. White eyes flashed with a lopsided grin, a horrible threat.

“I might be under the impression that you’re all grown up.”

Felix tried to flinch backwards, to get out of the shadow’s grasp, to run and hide. To save his own life. To scream for Pan.

But the shadow read him and laughed.

“Don't be dramatic. I might be willing to look the other way,” He compressed their faces together, lips hitting a scarred jaw. “If we can come to a sort of _arrangement._ ”

Felix tried to speak, but found his voice muffled under an airy hand.

“Fine. I’ll play fair.” The shadow sighed and loosened his grip. “Now what is it?”

“You can’t hurt me,” Felix shook his head, lips hitting the soft padding between fingers, barely intelligible. “Not as long as Pan wants me.”

No sooner had the words escaped Felix’s mouth than the cave filled with a low gnarling vibrato. White eyes tinted red for a fraction of a second.

Felix watched through slit pupils as the shadow extended a hand to the center of his chest. Before he could make an attempt to ask, the white claws pushed through his clothes, through his skin, turning his insides to ice. He felt long fingers steeple inside his chest, gliding like a parasite beneath the skin and bone.

And then the shadow jerked his arm away, a transparent black mass strangled between his talons.

Felix couldn’t even manage to cry out. His vocal chords wouldn’t move. He was too tired. Weak. Decrepit. His back ached and his knees wobbled. Everything was sore and every inch assaulted by an invisible razorblade. The golden light from the hourglass turned sour, silver, bright instead of glowing. A dozen black and white faces, shaped and edged like Peter Pan, hazed in and out of his sight.

The air turned to acid in his lungs; he was searing, burning; flayed alive.

“Are you quite confident that I wouldn’t?” The shadow hissed, almost too low to register. “Do you want to test me?”

Felix spluttered. Aching, hurting. But the shadow’s fist hit his chest, the black mass sunk through his skin once more, and the pain disappeared. Felix was awake and alert, as though he hadn’t just been gasping for air.

“You’ll do well to remember what I am.” The shadow sighed with the same irritated expression Felix had seen painted on Pan’s features time and time again. “And what Pan makes me do.”

Felix’s head spun and he jolted away in a mad attempt for air, only to find the shadow followed him close. Mashed between a cold cave wall and a body that was somehow blood and air at the same time.

“Besides. Do you really think he wants you? And even if he does, do you think he still would if your little secret got out?” The shadow took a breath for emphasis and almost flickered transparent against the light. Malicious. “If he knew all those explicit, dirty thoughts that you come up with? Not very childlike I'm afraid.”

“Don’t take my shadow.” Felix certainly sounded childlike then in the terrified timbre that broke through his shivering lips.

“Oh, Felix, that’s the last thing I want.” The shadow cooed. “I might be obliged to, but that - your shadow - isn’t what I want from you.”

Felix couldn't inquire. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. Especially not when a thick mist settled in, filling his lungs and digging between his thighs. Magnetism shepherded his hips to cant, his head to shoot back into the imprisoning arm. A whine to break through the shadow’s hand.

He felt something slither up his throat. Broad and sweeping at first; leaving soft, cloudy mark dripping from collar to where the shadow’s white tongue had capped over his chin. A half second later, and it was startling as teeth scraped along his skin, sharp rows of knives baiting him.

Before Felix had the chance to think, the shadow removed his hand from his lips, skimming his fingers down his torso, palming his hip with hands that felt like fire. His skin scorched and turned scarlet from the heat. He tried to flinch but found himself immobile.. Long white fingers flexed against his hip, and suddenly Felix only heard his own voice reverberating in his skull articulating two concise syllables: Re _lax._

Felix felt a second hand leave his wrists. Slight pressure in a million different places. Nails ripped through his skin and immediately peppering another place with touch. The heel of a palm on his cheek, on his neck, ribs, thigh, stomach, ass, back, shoulder, groin; everywhere. Never lingering enough for him to react. When he tried, he found himself barreling headfirst into the next slide of hands.

A bolt of magic and Felix fell back. He hit the wall of the cave hard, feeling the bruise already purpling on his shoulder. Distracted by the shadow who looked so much like Peter Pan pressed up against him. A knee shifted between his legs, grinding harsh corrosive circles.

Felix had to bite his cheeks to keep from whimpering. Stimulated, weak, and confused, mind racing in unintelligible hieroglyphs. Pan’s face. The shadow’s face. The prickling and pounding and confusion.

“What do you want?” It came out closer to begging than Felix had intended, and he winced.

“Can’t you guess?” Pan’s accent wafted into Felix’s ear, a heavy lip rubbing against the ridges of skin, voice slow, punctuating every syllable. “I want to _break rules_ with you.”

Felix could only blink. It couldn’t be real; Pan’s voice,  laying out what he’d been hiding in the depths of his mind for decades. Straight from a fantasy, and it was standing just before him, practically thrown on top of him. He felt sudden heat spike under his abdomen. Pins and needles brought years of imagination, which had previously only existed in disconnected shards, together. There it was, thrown before him blatantly, confusing and seducing his veins.

The shadow looked so much like Pan, said things Felix had yearned to hear in that voice. It was enough to ruin his mind. Without realizing what he was doing, Felix found his newly free hands pressing into smoky shoulders, mouths gaping and pressing and wrastling together. The cave felt humid and pulsed like drums as the shadow retaliated with sharp teeth and forked tongue.

The shadow slithered back, adjusting his shoulders in Felix’s hand, rolling bone into his calloused palms. And he smiled.

The worst of it was, as Felix eyed the shadow, his brain filled in the missing colors. He saw sandy brown hair instead of black, warm skintone replacing the white. Everything in color, except for the eyes. But it was close enough. This was connected to Pan. Somehow. And he’d never say no to Peter. Not ever.

Felix’s head twitched; he blinked furiously. Words were shorting out, magic pulsed again and he nearly doubled over. The shadow laughed, just like Pan would have, but clouded in a sort of violent desire.

“Let’s make it a game, shall we?”

“I--I--” Felix sifted away from the wall, vying for leverage to work against the words splattering through greymatter making his tongue slur and his brain slow. “I--don’t know.”

The shadow pouted through his lower lip. He was oddly expressive for a face without pupils. But then he shook his head and pressed into Felix’s ear.

“Come on.” The shadow’s sharp teeth hit Felix’s ear as he mewled low. A crooning, licentious, sinful noise that left nothing to the imagination. “Don’t you want to know what he sounds like _moaning_ your name?”

"But..." There was a stave in Felix's lungs, air came bursting out, and he deflated in his chest, pounding underneath his skin. "But...Pan...he...."

"He won't know."

"Pan knows everything.” Felix found his bravado rising until a blow to the stomach knocked it down.

The shadow was spitting, voice gone dark and growling. Only retaining the fuzziest bits of the accent he’d been wearing. "You overestimate him.”

“No. Not possible.”

The shadow sighed and settled his hips against the tall boy. Felix gaped at how easily they slotted together. As though this were something natural, something that was supposed to happen.

His heart thrummed in his spinal cord, daring to entertain the possibility that it would feel so perfectly fitted if Pan were standing before him. Perhaps even more so. What if that hipbone that filled in the hollow of his was Pan’s? The hard prick pushing against his thigh? He blinked at his disorientation, trying to free himself, but found his mind warbling at the contact every moment he tried to forget it. Would it feel so natural with Pan? Would it feel right? Without warning he found himself pressing into the shadow. The foggy chest snug and still against his rattled mobile trunk, but vibrant and alive, free from scarring and ecstatic.

Felix almost smiled. Pan’s lungs would have been still too.

This, the act of lying against this body as it twitched and pulsed against him, teasing with the preview of how perfect it could be, wouldn’t be any different with Pan than with the shadow.

Felix caught in the way the shadow’s eyes flared. His lips turned up for half a second, natural interest in challenges peaking.

“Say no, you’re all grown up and you’ll have to leave. Say yes and you'll be a lieutenant in Neverland forever." The shadow’s foggy lips hovered over Felix's mouth, scorching hot. "It’s an easy decision, but it is yours to make.”

“Pan, I--”

At the mistake, Felix froze and the shadow glistened, sharp hard edges coming into focus. Corrosive and acidic. “I know you want him. But you know the same thing I do: _This_ is the closest you’ll ever get. And that's a promise."

The shadow stopped, looked at him with an evenness that was odd on Pan’s face. The glowing white eyes that couldn’t stare and couldn’t look away had Felix on a skewer.

“Time’s up,” The shadow sighed. “Tell me. Are you grown up or aren’t you?”

It was a breeze against Felix’s skin. Hot summer air, the sun beating down and burning him.

The words slipped out.

“I’m not--"

Felix hadn't finished his sentence before teeth split his lips, erupting in blood. Hands shifted from his hip to clamp against the laces under his belt. The shadow moved his wrist, harsh friction to bring Felix to desire with a hapless whimper.

Two steps behind, Felix snapped his mouth open and shut, desperate to gulp down any breath of air he could. He groaned as the shadow bit his tongue and gnashed against his teeth.

He started for a beat, warm air coiling up his body, electrified from magic. Disoriented in how it soothed the aches in his muscles. Decades of imaginary liaisons, and now he faced it in the flesh.

But, no. This wasn’t Pan--but did it even matter? It was Pan’s shadow. An extension of him. Pan’s shadow and Pan’s Lost Boy. It had a half-decent ring to it.

His head hurt, but he shook away the pain even as the shadow assaulted his mouth. The being pushed away, brow arching like Pan’s would when one of the Boys had behaved particularly stupid.

There was silence for a beat, silence save for the humming in the shadow’s body, the pounding in Felix’s ears, and the soft underlying melody of the golden dust falling through the glass.

The shadow stared him down, stripped him down to his soul.

Felix offered a small half-smile. “A child."

And then he was biting back. Saying yes.

A chattering noise, a quick mechanical clicking. Felix felt that same hazy magical fog that assaulted him earlier. It was raw and it was wrong, and every crevice and inch of skin swelled with blood and pounding physical need for release.

The fog covered his limbs, dotting with goosebumps, drenched in sweat and red with fever. Skin pimpling and tightening and scorching as the pace increased and the cave burned.

Magic vibrated and seeped through his spinal cord, pulsing in his veins and pressing against his insides, pulling intimate muscles. Felix trembled with both legs hitched around the shadow’s waist. His fingers somehow wound up clawing through black hair and the fog shifted underneath his skin. And it was fast and intense and hard.

Smog set in, and Felix could feel the threads of his clothes loosen and break, evaporating into the air. The sudden feeling of skin stuck to skin that chilled like fog startled him, and he broke away for a moment to stare.

The shadow frowned, but only for a second; his mouth immediately perking upwards as he sent a new burst of intense magic up through Felix, causing him to knot and contort, overwhelmed. Deciding to play it human, he skimmed his palm up the backs of Felix’s thighs, brushing wispy blond hairs against the grain, before inserting himself knuckle-deep without so much as a warning.

Felix keened, gasped, canted down.

The shadow might’ve laughed, perplexed how mechanical action received better response than magic. No matter, he could do both.

With magic aid and three misty fingers breaching him, Felix saw stars, warbling as the cave dotted and blurred in his sight. The magic pressing against his skin, grinding and frotting and leaving no inch of skin untouched.

Magic turned everything slippery, Felix noticed as the hands left him and the magic throbbed harder inside him, taking full responsibility. A tongue scoured his mouth.

Felix’s eyes snapped shut. He thought about Pan, bit his lip. Trying to imagine the face pressed up to his neck with green eyes and pupils. Sparking, not glowing. Crackling, not humming. With skin that felt hot and fully tangible.

The shadow never stopped rolling his lips and tongue on Felix’s skin. Magic welling in the closed space: a breeze, a hurricane. Felix jolted as he felt it prickling and heating through his pores, under the beds of his fingernails, on his eyelashes, under the skin retracting on his cock. Every bone in his body melted under electric clouds.

The shadow shifted, aligning himself, and Peter’s voice sounded, as promised, a low heady moan. “ _Felix._ ”

Felix forgot for a moment that it came from the shadow and not the boy himself.

And so he rooted himself and pushed in. So careful to keep his eyes mostly shut as he shuddered to the feeling and sunk down on the shadow until he was pressed against hips once more, ankles compressing around the shadow’s ribs. He bit and sucked at the extra tongue in his mouth because he was shaken and filled and he couldn’t be bothered to give a damn if it was real or not. As far as he was concerned it was Peter Pan and everything else could just fuck off.

Besides, the shadow was a part of Peter. Wasn’t he?

_Wasn’t he?_

But even as he rolled hips to conduct himself on the shadow’s insistent cock, magic did all the work, dark shadowy clouds inside him, pushing muscles, hot and wet and hitting nerves. Magic coiling and sucking, swallowing. Harsh all around, licking his skin and ravishing everything at once. The pulsing inside and around him, lighting everything on fire. Magic that buried deep, assaulting his nerves and filling him, stretching even as it burrowed and pulsed. A warmness covering him, tickling and rubbing against every inch of skin, hot friction drenching him and pulsing pleasure and fogged ecstasy through him. As though a hundred hands and mouths were hellbent on having him, worshipping him.

If it were Pan, Felix knew, he’d be laughing. It’d be manic and free, just like he always did in his favorite games. Felix tried to fill his ears with the memory of the laugh, but found he couldn’t quite recall the sound.

Long white hands shoved Felix upwards against the cave wall. There was force as the shadow rocked him, pulling his hips down onto him deeper, extending his magic to cover and overwhelm every pore, every inch.

With a high groan, Felix’s head hit the rocky wall of the cave, he saw stars as a fire erupted hot in his abdomen, crunching him in half. And it shook him and raked him and it was fast and Felix couldn’t keep up.

So why, he had to wonder, was he whining for more?

Felix didn’t know what was going on, couldn’t make sense of the contradictions. Whenever he tried to think, magic slammed and swallowed and bit down and he arched his back and canted forward and he whined and whimpered and fell apart with the shadow holding him in place.

With a long airy tongue prodding and poking at his, Felix was caught between wincing and laughing. The magic heated, tightened, pulled and twisted and that was that. Warmth spread, starting under his abdomen and racing to cover his whole body, pins and needles, endorphins skyrocketing in hypersensitivity. Everything shot out of him just before his whole body flushed, stiffened, and let go entirely. He screamed.

Felix slid down the cave wall, sticky and spent and trying to process everything. Eyes shut tight because he knew that when he opened them he wouldn’t be able to fool himself into seeing Pan.

The shadow crouched beside him, billowy heat radiating.“You make good choices.” His voice only barely mimicking Pan’s, “You perfect, wonderful boy.”

The slow breeze covering his body made Felix feel drunk on top of all the aching muscles coming to fruition.

“Felix,” The shadow hissed, both hands on his battered hips, he pecked at his lips. “Never grow up and I’ll show you what it’s like to be wanted.”

When Felix refused to react or even open his eyes, there was a steepling clicking noise in the cave. Body heat vanished from beside him, and the dark voice sounded, much deeper and completely unlike Pan.

“I’ll be in touch.”

Felix only opened his eyes again when he was sure he was alone.

With a sigh he buried his face in his knees, quivering in uncertainty of what to think or how to feel.

Why did he feel like he’d just burnt a temple? Killed a god?

The shadow was right: he was the closest he’d ever get to Pan.

_Wasn’t he?_

If nothing else, this was better than having his shadow ripped out; it was worth staying beside Peter forever.

It was a fair trade. It was.

_It was._

 

* * *

 

Pan was, apparently, trying to wean Baelfire onto the types of games they usually played. It didn’t seem to be any use, as the boy wasn’t exactly _participating,_ but no matter. As long as he kept himself alive before the product of True Love was born somewhere in another realm,, there wasn’t anything to worry about.

It wasn’t as though Felix participated much either. Perhaps, Pan figured, his friend might be able to talk some sense into Baelfire. The imagination and belief could come later from someone more qualified.

Of course that would only actually work if Felix waited for orders, sat at camp, and didn’t flit off doing who knew what.

Noticing his friend was, yet again, nowhere to be seen, Pan sent his magic through the island, trying to identify where Felix had run off to and why he wasn’t keeping up with his responsibilities, only to find that he couldn’t pinpoint him.

Odd. Perhaps Felix had found a charm or a potion that could cloak him from Pan’s magic.

Which was absolutely bloody ridiculous, since he had no _reason_ to want to avoid him. The alternatives, however, were even more unsavory. Felix had no reason to want to leave after all, and Pan would’ve sensed if he’d been dying - if an animal nabbed him, if he walked into dreamshade, or ate a poison berry.

So it had to be a cloaking charm.

Pan hadn’t the foggiest idea how his friend could’ve acquired it or why he would’ve even wanted it,

Perhaps Felix had made nice with one of the newer recruits, was off running or shooting or something. Which, of course, was fine. Pan wanted Felix to put some effort into the rest of the Boys, but there were _limits_.

He’d always prompted Felix to make friends, and he wouldn’t mind if the boy spent all day otherwise occupied, just as long as he’d sit on the same log come nightfall, beside him, watching the others dance.

Felix hadn’t been sitting beside him at night, not recently. 

Realizing this, Pan frowned but pushed the thought to the back of his mind. There were more important things to worry about.

He knew he’d need to have a chat with Felix. Maybe even prod the boy to actually accept his advances and throw away whatever was going on behind his back. But, that would have to happen later. At least after he had a little chat with his grandson about his sulky behavior.

As one might imagine, there was a charm over Felix keeping him from Pan’s views, but it wasn’t one from the boy’s own design.

One of the advantages of being the spirit of the island was that the shadow could short-circuit Pan’s power every once in a while. He didn’t do it often, as he didn’t want the magical boy to pull two and two together and forbid him from his privacy. But his uses of this ability were growing more and more frequent. This could potentially jeopardize everything, but the shadow couldn’t help it. Felix made him impulsive, and he always wanted more. And Pan couldn’t know, because Pan would get greedy, and _Pan_ couldn’t have this.

It had been going on for what felt like weeks and was probably months. He’d pull Felix aside when the Boys were busy playing chase or shooting at each other, press him against a tree, and push and pull and thrill him with magic until he was sweating and spent and falling down into the dirt with that look on his face.

Every time ended with Felix in the exact same state, eyes shut tight, flattening himself against a tree or a rock to the best of his ability.

Was it in shame? Perhaps. But that was no matter, he’d never have enough shame in him to say no. Especially not when the shadow had one hand on the boy’s life-force and the other pumping at his cock. Felix was smart enough to say yes, and docile enough to lie back. Perfect.

It wasn’t as though the shadow was selfish over the matter. He used his flesh and blood form, if nothing else, to anchor Felix down and give him something familiar to attend to, even if only added up to smoke and mirrors.

See? _Generosity._

That evening, while the Lost Boys were running around the island and the shadow had pulled Felix away into a small cave of smooth black rock, he had almost forgotten to shield them from Pan’s magic.The imp was growing more and more curious in Felix, and the shadow would not allow it. Pan always got what he wanted, but not this time. But the shadow did have to tread more carefully if he wanted to keep it that way.

However, it was difficult to keep the blocking charm up and formulate a plan when he was standing between Felix’s knees with lips sucking at his throat, using magic to tickle and rake the boy from the inside out, touching and covering him until he couldn’t go on.

As he focused on rolling his magic over Felix, readying the spell to disintegrate fabric, he let up on the charm, ever so slightly. Nearly the second he did so, Pan appeared in the head of the cave. Apparently he’d been looking for Felix at the time. The shadow snapped into invisibility before the magical boy’s eyes could adjust to the darkness.

Felix hadn’t noticed the warm wave of magic as Pan appeared, struggling to gather his breath when Pan made his way into the cave with a small laugh. “What’s this, then?”

Felix’s eyes snapped open, surprised at the light pitch to the voice, confused when he saw a figure in full color standing before him.

“Pan?” His voice cracked, and if he had enough energy left in him, he might’ve flinched.

“Expecting someone else?”

Felix paused, returning his voice to its signature monotone. “Who would I be expecting?”

This seemed like a satisfactory answer, for Pan nodded and gave an airy gesture. “Want me to come back later? After you’ve taken care of… _that_.”

“It’s...” Felix twitched, adjusting the clothes that clung to his body, thinking of decay and mold and anything and everything to lower his erection. Even if his nerves were shot in the presence of the boy in front of him, eyeing his disheveled state with no small amusement. A thought of a girl he’d been engaged to before he went to Neverland brought him down. “Taken care of.”

Pan shrugged indifferently and folded his legs under himself to collapse on a rock across the way. Felix started for a moment. Shouldn’t Pan be upset? Even if he didn’t know about the shadow, though it didn’t make sense to Felix that he wouldn’t, shouldn’t he be upset that he (Felix) had just been breaking rules? Behaving in very unchildlike ways?

Pan didn’t seem happy, but that wasn’t the reason.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

All Felix could do was blink. “I’m not.”

“Don’t lie to me, you know you can’t lie.” Pan scoffed. “You slip under sometimes, and I can’t find you. Why?”

Felix shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips when the dark scent of earth wafted against his face. “Maybe I’m cursed.”

Although there was partial truth to the statement, it flew over Pan’s head and the boy just rolled his eyes. “It’s not good to keep secrets from me. I don’t like not having control, Felix.”

“Don’t you think I’d give you control?” Felix turned, still flushed, but entirely serious. “Pan, I want…”

Pan’s brow arched as the boy faded. “What?”

Felix sighed. It was no use. The shadow was right - Pan would allow neither his thoughts nor his feelings, and frankly, he was better off with the creature who would hold him, fuck him, and then let him be. He offered a weak smile, “I want you to win.”

“There isn’t even an alternative.”

“Of course.”

Pan looked around the cave, eyeing the smooth rock, before darting back to meet Felix’s eyes with a mischievous gleam and a crooked grin. “Are you sure you don’t want to finish with that?”

Felix blushed. He knew that there was a right answer and a wrong answer. And he knew that if he answered incorrectly there would likely be punishment involved. He had to think like a child. “Absolutely.”

“Have it your way.” Pan stood to leave with a sigh, “Remember your responsibilities. Start taking care of the others, if you would.” It wasn’t a suggestion, and Felix ducked his head, ashamed of himself. “And stop disappearing on me. I’d hate to have to keep you on a leash.” Pan tongued the inside of his cheek, a short laugh contained in a breath. “Well, actually that doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

Felix blinked, slightly stunned, at his leader turned and trotted away a bit too slowly.

The instant Pan left eyeshot, the shadow reappeared, eyes bright, lips pulled into a frown, pinning Felix against the rock with a white forearm.

“What did I do now?” Felix wished that, due to everything they did, he could muster an ounce of audacity when the shadow looked at him like that. Just an ounce.

“No.” The shadow stepped closer, flickering somewhere between flesh and air. “You aren’t allowed.”

Felix’s head darted upwards on reflex, the shadow’s chin and nose against his neck. “What?”

“Don’t pay attention to them...any of them. I don’t care if it’s Baelfire. I don’t care if it’s Pan himself. They don’t deserve your attention. What did they ever do?”

Felix opened his mouth to speak, but found teeth grazing over his lips before he could get a sound out.

“Besides,” The shadow made an effort to pump air into Felix’s mouth ask he spoke. “Why would you even want them? They don’t want you - not one of them. I don’t even like it when they look at you. So ungrateful, don’t see how perfect you are. Don’t attend to them - attend to me, it’ll work out better that way.”

Felix shook deliberately from the head down, straining to keep control. “You can’t--”

“Oh can’t I?” A hand snapped back to his neck, fingernails raking up his forearm, Felix’s arm fell limp and lifeless as the silhouette swung around in the shadow’s grip, the boy flinched, filled with cold and sharp pain. “I can do whatever I want. I _prefer_ cooperation.”

Felix slumped to the best of his ability against the wall, closing off the conversation. They’d had it before, and it only made him ache.

The shadow sighed and placed Felix’s shadow back into his arm. “There, no harm done.” He offered a smile that glowed behind sharp teeth. “But, you know, you don’t need them. The Boys, Pan--”

“Don’t talk about Pan.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” The shadow tossed his head. “I know him better than you do.”

Felix knew better than to fight back, instead he sulked. Shoulders down, head away, chewing on the side of his mouth.

The shadow arched a brow, imitating the same likeness as he always did, using it as an anchor to keep Felix on strings. “Aren’t you going to give this up? Eventually you’ll have to open your eyes and you’ll see who actually cares.”

“Pan does care--”

The shadow slammed him against rock again. “Don’t go ruining us now. Besides, deep down you know who you belong to. Tell me.”

Felix shook his head. No. He couldn’t tell the shadow what he wanted to hear. It was heresy from start to finish, and Felix was tangled up in it. But, at least, he figured, he wouldn’t have to admit it. He wouldn’t cross that final line.

“Who do you belong to?”

Heart firing in short intense bursts, Felix continued to shake his head. “No.”

“Give it time.” The shadow smirked. “And unlike Pan, I’ve got all the time in the world. And so do you.”

A flash of grey light, the humanoid form sifted into a dark cloud and flew away.

Felix didn’t shut his eyes that time, and he couldn’t, even if he tried.

 

* * *

 

The bonfire climbed so high that night it almost singed the canopies, black smoke trailing high up into the purple twilight sky. The Boys all danced, rough and stomping, clanking sticks together and laughing. Occasionally a few of the older set would lift a younger boy onto their shoulders and spin them without mercy until the little one couldn’t walk, stumbling in circles as he vomited, still laughing.

Felix lazed against the bark of his tree, tossing a rubber ball one of the boys believed up into the air.

It was lonely, sitting on the outside of the fun. Not that he ever was one to jump and dance with the boys in the first place, but losing the option to join changed everything.

He’d come to realize that it simply wasn’t worth it, trying to integrate into their games. If he tried, he’d remember the way the shadow would hunt him down afterwards, slap him across the face, growling out, “No” over and over again.

On the other hand, Pan liked his Boys to have a sense of community, and that kept Felix in the cycle.

It was a horrible mess, really.

He opened his palm to receive the ball once more, surprised when it didn’t return to his hand. Flinching, he looked up, expecting to see either the shadow or Pan, surprised when he saw a head of unruly brown curls and a complacent smile. Baelfire.

The boy took a seat across from Felix, his back to the fire, tossing the little rubber ball, wordlessly opening his hands to receive it again.

Felix blinked half in surprise, but then threw back. “This is unexpected.”

Baelfire offered a small grin. “Well, you haven’t tried to kill me yet.”

“A decent start.”

They sat silently, listening to the Boys whoops and poundings, the percussion of sticks clashing together and heavy stamps.

The insects reappeared on Felix’s spine as Baelfire eased into a comfortable slouching position against an adjacent tree, tossing the rubber ball up into the air and then back to him. Pan would be pleased, Felix knew, that he’d managed to receive Baelfire in a friendly way; the shadow, on the other hand, would be pissed.

At least, once he noticed.

Felix saw the creature flying in and out of camp, darting through the trees, all smoke and dark air. He lifted some of the younger boys through the trees, dropping them only to save them cenimetres from the ground. Flying and coiling around the dancers, ruffling their cloaks and hair with his breeze.

Baelfire noticed how Felix had grown distracted and spiraled around to look by the fire. He returned to face Felix and tossed the ball. “Pan’s in a good mood.”

Felix blinked, confused, looking around the camp. Pan was nowhere to be seen. “How do you know?”

“The shadow.” Balefire turned back to face him, gesturing back into the fray, glowing golden orange from the firelight. When Felix didn’t understand, he elaborated. “Haven’t you noticed how they always seem to have the exact same thing on their minds?”

“No.” Felix’s eyes darted back to the shadow.

“Oh. Well, I - I thought it was a shadow thing. Because they’re the same person -- it’s all the same.”

Felix was reduced to blinking, to snapping his mouth open and shut.

 _For starters, they are not the same person,_ he thought, but found himself entertaining the possibility.

In retrospect, he had to admit that it did seem as though the shadow’s mood revolved around Pan.

The shadow would be less coarse on the days Pan had laughed and played along with the rest. He’d be particularly violent when Pan seemed irritated or distant.

And the longer Felix thought about it, the more memories that crept up through the centuries, and the more apparent it became.

But, he thought, what did that mean when it came to those times the shadow would hold him against a wall, burrowing in with magic and physicality, whispering in that husky voice, _“Don’t tell Pan,”_ coercing secrets into their wordless arrangement?

Did that mean Pan knew? Then why did the shadow want to keep it a secret?

_What if…_

Felix found his shoulders straighten, did that mean that Pan wanted…

Assuming Baelfire’s theory was correct. Which, Felix tried to throw his head, it probably wasn’t.

But it’s impossible to kill an idea once it’s made itself clear in your mind, and that night, when Felix stalked about the island, making rounds as per usual, his mind took him away.

_Pan’s hand coiling over his, blunted and strong, encasing him from palm to fingers in a way that claimed ownership, rather than clawing possession as he’d become accustomed. ._

_“I want you, I do.” Pan’s eyes sparked, ignited like flame. “I do, I do.”_

_Felix couldn’t suppress a grin, tapping his fingers to the best of their ability while Pan laughed, dark and low…_

“What’re you doing here?”

Felix froze, blinking back to reality, only to find he’d wandered directly to the base Pan’s treehouse. The magical boy himself hung off the rope ladder, one hand threaded on the knots and the other resting limp off his side.

Felix started, blinking away the images that crept in his brain. He wasn’t exactly sure when, but he decided to cut his losses, decided to give an indifferent gesture to prompt Pan to climb the ladder. Perhaps it’s curiosity that prompted Pan to indulge his request.

Pan’s treehouse changed in design next to constantly. The boy was, after all, the king of flippant belief. He’d change his living quarters to suit whatever it was he wanted it to be. Felix sometimes wondered what it felt like to have such control over what one _believed_ in, or any control at all.

Felix adjusted his shoulders, suddenly feeling lanky and awkward in the treehouse, unsure what had inspired him to come there. The room was spacious for the time being, paneled walls that gave the illusion of privacy and grandeur, a bed shoved into the corner filled to the brim with animal pelts and silk sheets. Overstuffed armchairs in front of a roaring fireplace. Felix almost wondered why Pan kept chairs in his treehouse, but then he’d remember he wasn’t supposed to ask questions.

“So what is it?” Pan collapsed onto the armchair, back balanced on the arm rest with one leg lifted over the back and the other draping to the floor. It was an awfully distracting position, all open like that, but Felix couldn’t afford to think about it. Pan’s nose wrinkled. “Did Nibs lose another finger?”

“Probably,” Felix chortled dryly.

“But that’s not a good enough reason to seek me out.” Pan’s brows darted upwards as he tapped his fingers on air to prompt Felix to have a seat on the adjoining chair. Normally Felix would’ve obliged, but he had a different idea. “I expect something good, Felix.”

“That remains to be seen,” Felix muttered under his breath as he found himself taking a few steps forward to crouch down before Pan.

“Don’t you go disappointing me now.” A barking laugh, and Pan lowered Felix’s hood, skimming his palm up the side of the boy’s head. “This better be good.”

Felix sighed, lungs suddenly felt as though they were lined with lead. “What’s your relationship with your shadow?”

Pan blinked, and Felix might’ve laughed at the oddity of seeing someone so powerful so utterly perplexed.

“Why the hell do you want to know that?”

“I just...” Sparks were going off in Felix’s stomach and it wasn’t necessarily a pleasant sensation. “At least tell me if you share thoughts.”

“I don’t share things. You know that.” Pan rolled his eyes. “If anything he’s a parasite - rides off me. Why are you--”

He didn’t finish his sentence, Felix had shot up onto his knees, somehow wrapped a hand around the back of his head, caught Pan’s lips between his and held them there for a moment. Tentative.

Pan started for a moment, broke away. He could see Felix freeze, on a pin. Pan half wanted to draw it out, make Felix squirm. Instead, he flipped his position on the chair so Felix was kneeling between his knees, a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He smiled, gave a breathy laugh. “How about that?”

No time to react at that point, before Pan brought them together again.

Felix’s stomach clenched as he found himself drawing the immediate comparisons. Pan didn’t use teeth, but had a way of opening his mouth that drew Felix in, that made him want to fill in the empty spaces and make Pan hum. The magical boy flickered back, always retaining something, keeping complete control, causing an instant vibrato humming in Felix’s tailbone. Unlike with the shadow, that humming went uncatered to.

Everything was focused into his mouth as Pan prodded and poked in, letting out controlled noises that hit high on his tenor. Felix almost laughed. It was odd to hear his kisses received in high gasps.

Pan pulled off, carding through his hair. “What brought this on?”

“I wanted to know if it’s you too.”

“Too?” Pan blinked, eyes slipping behind Felix’s head and suddenly widening. “Oh. I see.”

Felix flipped back on himself, finding his breath lost as he met white eyes.

The shadow leaned against the window, arms crossed, eyes slits. He locked onto Felix’s eyes and came forward on air, not bothering to put on the show of walking, phasing in and out of flesh and bone, becoming transparent in small flickering instants.

“Didn’t I tell you?” He growled, voice rolling, heaving in attempt to cover up the unwanted laughter revolving over and over in his stomach. “Didn’t I say to steer clear from him? You belong to _me._ Not him. I play for keeps and you’re not playing fair!”

Felix recoiled, flinching towards Pan as though he were a shield. Pan cocked a brow, an open smirk toying at his swollen lips, as he stood.

“And _you._ ” The shadow flashed and turned to the boy who matched him entirely in all but color. “Get jealous, be pissed, do _something_!”

Pan straightened his shoulders with a small wink. “Can’t.”

“I’ve been fucking him. You haven’t noticed - I’ve bested you, and you can never match up to what I do.” The shadow was hitting gnarled notes, almost too low to register. Uncontrolled, spitting. Unexplained revelry. “So get jelous. _React,_ damn you.”

Pan tongued the inside of his cheek. “Sorry to disappoint, but I think I rather like this.”

The shadow laughed, loud and hearty, eyes betraying no flash of violence even as he grabbed Pan by the shoulders and threw him to the window, cracking the glass at the boy’s back, jutting out like thunderbolts from his spine.

The shadow balled his knuckles into tight, sharp fists, as he knocked the wind out of Pan, making the cracks in the glass race out to greet the panes, shattering all structural integrity. The shadow doubled over as he threw punches, as though his arm was coiling back into his own stomach.

“Get angry!”

“Won’t.”

And Pan laughed. The shadow started in too, from his doubled over position, lips pulled back to his ears, the jovial sound bouncing off the wood and out into the jungle through the cracks in the glass.

Felix just watched on, somehow unaware that he had muscles and capability to move them. Surprised when he saw them at each other’s throat. Somehow, he’d always imagined the shadow in submission to Pan, rolling over and obeying wordlessly. He hadn’t expected the animosity. Or the amusement.

At least, not until he caught sight of Pan’s hand, a trail of blood up his forearm from the window, as he tightened his fists on the back of the shadow’s ratty black doublet.

“Stop it,” The shadow hissed, blinking, blushing grey, the light from his eyes causing a short strobing in the treehouse.

Pan’s brow darted up. “We want the same thing. I was patient about it is all. Content to just let my imagination run for a while. Not my fault you have no control. Or my fault that you’re second-best.”

The shadow strained against himself, wanting to lash out and cut and ruin Pan, but stormclouds and hurricanes inside stopped him. Unwanted compliance kept him with knuckles digging into Pan’s flesh and muscle. Not wanting anything to do with him while at the same time understanding and thriving on the sense of mischief welling in the boy.

Felix’s breath hitched, and he stood, suddenly aware he had control over his limbs. Unsure what to do, and knowing it’d be a suicide mission to try to stop them, he waited, watching the scene play out as though it were another vision. Only he couldn’t blink this one away.

But then there was a laugh from one of them, he couldn’t tell which, musical and stormy.

Thier mouths were both gaping, Felix couldn’t tell which one spoke. The voice was vinegar, hot and persuasive. _“Come on then.”_

A volcano erupted in Felix’s abdomen when the two nearly identical faces came together. Every inch of his body stiffened. The shadow bit into Pan’s flushed lips, where a pink tongue darted over to saturate whiteness and taint their pallid color.

The shadow’s fist loosened on Pan’s stomach, fanning out flat and skimming lower on his body. Pan’s trousers seemed to be no consequence as the shadow rubbed at him, fingers clenching and moaning as he did so. Glass rained down on them as Pan fisted the shadow’s collar, backing him into the room.

They were both biting and licking and spitting violently, raking their nails up the other’s body. The shadow scrambling up for dominance, muscles straining through his airy flesh, only to be laughed at and knocked down with the slightest tick or touch from Pan. The beast growled and the boy caught fire, pawing and panting and rolling mouths and hands. Hips scraping, at odds in their identical shape, blocking the other’s attacks.

Felix stood, tacked to the spot. Breath hitching, trying not to keen at the image of two faces, both Pan’s, at each other. Refusing to pull punches, violent and possessive. Struggling for power. Each one so incredibly dominant it was hard to tell who was conducting them. He hadn’t realized that standing passively, watching such vehement aggression, could get him so excited.

Pan and the shadow pulled apart after a series of bites, each wanting to be the last one to move. The shadow reeled back when Pan clamped down on the his lip, ripping away white skin, a dark black blood collecting on the surface. Pan’s hand went up then and the shadow froze, growled.

And then, voices sounding in perfect harmony, one octave apart, and without looking away from the other identical face. They spoke together, calling his name.

Felix couldn’t remember moving, but somehow he’d crossed the room.

The shadow circled around him in a predatory advance that was all too familiar. He latched on behind Felix, magnetic hands pressed firmly into his chest, deflating him between their bodies. Advancing forward to stand just before him, Pan’s hand scraped up on Felix’s face. He almost blew over, nudging into the touch, but unsure to go further.

Overstimulated and pressed between two Panlike forms, one of which was the magical boy himself, Felix tried not to swoon.

Pan’s smirk was manic, delighted, but over all, _amused_. He ticked his head to the shadow, “Is he always this easily worked up?”

The shadow was all grins, glowing light bolting from his eyes. He nodded.

“Good.”

And there was a tongue on the front of his collarbone and teeth piercing through his shoulder.

The shadow pressed against his jaw, pulling their mouths together and poking holes with his fangs. Sharper and rougher than usual. Bullying his lips into submission, laughing as Felix groaned.

Felix’s hands burst forward in a random spasm, finding Pan’s hips and grating them against his. It was something of a relief to find the bones filling in with each other. Pan completing the puzzle, perfectly snug and matched with only air between them.

Pan didn’t allow the sensation to last for long, immediately throwing himself against Felix. They stumbled, and the next thing Felix knew he fell the mattress on the opposite side of the room. He was half upright, held there by the shadow, scouring hands all over him, jetstreams of air that did nothing to cool his body. The shadow’s nails scraped against his scalp as the being kissed and bit all over the side of his face, harsh, explicit words hit his ear without being absorbed through his skull. Just the low tone behind them.

Felix felt Pan’s hands on either side of his knees, jostling them apart with little to no effort. His brows lifted as he pulled the strings over his trousers loose and began to flex his palm between his own thighs before settling down between Felix’s. His eyes shimmered black, watching intently as the shadow nipped and blew at Felix’s face.

The shadow let go of Felix for a beat as Pan came in closer, stretching against his shoulder to tear apart the shadow’s tongue with his teeth. Pan snapped the creature’s head backwards as he quickly gained control, stumbling into Felix’s lap as he pushed forward. Felix merely nipped at his ribs, when he climbed upwards to attend to the shadow, dragging his lips against the bone.

The shadow pulled on Pan’s leg, jostling the other two closer together and succeeding to hover over them both.

Felix dedicated both his hands to skimming and covering the whole length of Pan’s cock, pulsing in beats of adrenaline. Praying he was making an impact.

The magical boy moaned and laughed, bit into the shadow again. He muttered something under his breath that Felix couldn’t hear. The shadow whimpered and fell back, taking the assaults to the mouth, head sprung directly below Pan’s, thrown to the ceiling to receive him.

Pan gasped for a moment as Felix’s fingers increased their pace, and he returned his attention to the tall boy. The shadow was right there, too, compressing them together like a magnet, erasing everything, all but the little wisps of air between them. He rode on a cloud greedily in an effort for inclusion.

Felix liked to think that he and Pan sifted together so perfectly it locked out the air.

But that hardly mattered with Pan straddling him and licking down his throat. The shadow hovered just behind, raking his airy arms up Felix’s back, causing gooseflesh to erupt and Felix to moan at the constant physical stimulation.

Pan’s voice was breathy, winded but coiled, tight springs ready to come undone. “All right boys,” He murmured, one hand on the nodes of the shadow’s spine, lips resting on Felix’s mouth as he spoke. “Let’s play.”

 

* * *

 

Felix fell back onto the mattress when it was through, soaked through to the bone, heaving and  burnt. He only needed a few years worth of sleep before he could even consider recovery. And yet. His stomach ached and pleaded with him not to as he quivered, Pan in eyeshot, messy and undone in a way he’d never even imagined.

He pulled the magical boy down to him, something Pan rolled his eyes at, but allowed. The shadow was at his back in an instant, trying a new approach, nuzzling against his ear, pleading for attention.

Coming down from a high, Felix simply lay, arms wrapped around Pan with the shadow just _there_. He crouched, still in the form that had succeeded to turn Felix inside out when he watched the two magical beings tear away at each other. Or when they were both tearing away at him.

At the time, it had set Felix on fire, filled him with images and fingerprints that he figured could satisfy him for the rest of his life.

In retrospect?

Felix practically threw the creature across the room, earning a very confused look from both boy and shadow.

He knew he shouldn’t, but Felix instantly felt foolish. So, yes, the shadow apparently had been keeping secrets from Pan. Had tried to own him in a way that only Pan could. Trying to tuck him away where Pan couldn’t find him. Ultimately, he failed, and in that Felix should be happy for Pan’s success.

There was a layer there, however, that still didn’t sit right with Felix.

He didn’t want to think about the shadow, dammit. He wanted to think about Pan. Wanted to remember the faces and sounds he made, what he looked like as he emptied himself. When he was starting to ache from standing so close to the edge for so long.

But, of course, the shadow was intertwined into the images, injecting himself and involving himself unforgettably into the memory.

Felix already had enough memories of the shadow.

Perhaps he needed to forget about it. Forget the months jammed between the shadow and the rocks, coerced into believing that Pan wouldn’t want him so he’d lie back.

But, the thought creeped into his mind, unwelcome and overwhelming, the shadow was still part of Pan. He could tell that much, reinforced over and over again when his actions towards Pan would affect the shadow at nearly the same time.

And he couldn’t afford to put anything other than utter trust in Pan. Could he?

He couldn’t hold a grudge against the shadow, even though he wanted to - wanted to hate the creature for everything he'd done. But he couldn't because the shadow was part of Pan.

_Well, son of a bitch._

Pan cocked a brow at the boy, chest returning to its normal easy breaths. He moved to stand before Felix’s arm snapped out to coil around his wrist.

Pan ticked his head over to the perplexed creature who phased between dark air and white skin intermittently.

Felix turned to the shadow, unwilling to apologize and not sure if he was hurt, enraged, or attracted by conditioning. He shifted his shoulders into an easy position and the creature reappeared at his side once more. Sharp teeth set about dotting his skin with small puncture-wounds intended as kisses.

Felix ignored him and opened his mouth into Pan’s, taking in a softer motion than before, sinking into it. Trying to tell him without words, appealing that Pan might see how well they fit together. That they, without the shadow that insistently pecked at his back, were something to be reckoned with.

Something dark and feral and important that existed simply because everything would be wrong if it didn’t.

And when he kissed him again, forgot about the shadow hanging off his shoulder, he didn’t have to think about it; he was starting to _believe_ it.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been quite the endeavor. I've been working on this bad boy for a month now and finally managed to pull it together into something decent. I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Hugs and kisses!
> 
>  
> 
> **Acknowledgements**  
> 
> 
> z0mbieshake - for all the reasons I mentioned previously: coming up with the plot, the art, the AU, everything, allowing me to take this on, and just everything. Seriously, thank you so much for allowing me to take this, for being so wonderful when I prodded on about the plot, allowing me to put a copy of the art in this work. You're amazing.
> 
> samantha-lisaya (from tumblr) - for her beta-esque services. 
> 
> paintingoncobwebs - for helping me work out my thoughts, meta-ing with me, and lulling my worries of dub-con vs. non-con. 
> 
> riki the dark (from ff.n) - also for her beta-esque services.


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